syzygy part I

this is going to be tough. something that has haunted me for years upon years upon years... it's a story i need to tell, if for no other reason, to stop all the eyes from rolling when i refer to the owner of those emerald green eyes, the sea of veridian mindfuck intelligence that just hovers in my mind, no matter what i do.

every morning... i sit down. mix up some pedro, arcade fire, pinback, pinetop seven and put it on random. bookmarks > mike > inmate search output. and there's never any change.

when i turned 19, i went to a bar, first time legally in august a few weeks after my birthday. my friend hit it off with some guy and usually it's me who gets attention from men, so i just chatted with his creepy friend to let my friend have her fun. they invited us out to their boat to watch a movie and against better judgement we went. long story short, the creepy guy i was left to entertain ended up having his way with me on the deck, against my will. i was shocked, all fucked up, i kept it to myself and told my friend we should go, she wanted to stay so i sat in the cabin of the boat with this prick who just raped me. she gave them our numbers, still no objection from me. i just stood there, useless. we left. i told my friend that something had happened and i don't know what. i don't really even know if she gets it to this day, i don't think i was clear enough, i don't think i wanted to be.

dropped off at home, i get inside and call another friend and spill everything. he doesn't know how to deal with it and we end up hanging up, same with the next friend. then i call mike, this kid who just annoyed the hell out of me for the past year, i dunno why, but i choose him and tell him everything. we spent maybe 8 hours on the phone. he called everyday for the next eternity to see how i was. he was only 15.

we had only ever known each other on the internet. as an obsessed nirvana fan, i participated in nirvana chat rooms. we would talk endlessly, in these chat rooms, about kurt cobain and courtney love and frances bean. we would discuss, to absolute, final death, the different ways kurt could have met his end. suicide, murder, etc. it wasn't the most uplifting thing to be chatting about, but when it's something that you think about, and no one in your tangible life wants to talk about it, you find other means. i chatted forever it seemed. and this kid, michael, would pop in and out of the chat room and make fun of people. the most annoying thing about this, was his sheer, breathtaking brilliance. no one could argue. we would only get frustrated and logout. there was no match for mike. and to this day that remains true.

on the night i was raped, he was the last person i wanted to see online. the LAST. when i saw he was there, i was about to logout and he asked how i was. and feeling the need to talk about this whole thing with someone removed from the situation, i spilled. his only reply was "what's your phone number?" and two minutes later the phone rang. that one phone call has changed my life with such profundity, i cannot even begin to pretend that what i am typing out at this current moment will give it any justice at all. but i'm going to tell you anyway. i simply have no choice.

that first phone call was moving. when i wanted to talk about what had happened, he had all the right questions at the right times. when i wanted a joke, he had one, when i wanted simple silence, he would wait, quiet and tell me later he was listening to the sound of my breathing. he would hum songs that meant something to me and tell me anecdotes from times when he'd been under stress. he was just there, for me, more so than anyone ever had been in my life. i instantly cared for him.

over the next few days, mike would call in the afternoon (i was still a teenager, so it was morning to me), and at night and ask how i was. he would give me advice but not push it, he'd tell me that no matter what, as long as i needed it, he'd be there for me to talk to. about anything. he even went so far as to offer to tell my parents that i had been raped, because it was so difficult for me. i declined, thankfully.

during this time, when i spent time on my own, i would think about what had happened to me and how i might be able to get through it. there were so many times when i was around friends or family talking about seemingly trivial things, and there was constant talk of going to bars. i could see this was where my life was headed. all my friends wanted to go to bars, bars, bars and i couldn't think of a scarier place for me to be. i began to withdraw from my friends, and was met with constant harassment. being made fun of because i was anti-social, or wanted to stay home, became a normal part of my life. i started to feel useless. i started to feel worthless. i was experiencing unprecedented emotional pain and all i wanted was to be rid of it. thoughts of my own death cheered me up... but i couldn't ever do it, i never gave those thoughts much time to grow or turn into plans, because when it popped into my head, i would soon think about the fact that if i were to die, i would miss so very much, my next phone call from a 15 year old genius in ohio.

to be cont'd...

Labels: mike

posted by Courtney at 2:49 a.m.

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